


Skeletons

by gingerbread man (xphantomhive)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Again I was sleepy, I told you I wrote it at three AM what do you expect, I wasn't ever going to post it but here we are, I wrote this like a month ago, Longer than drabble standards though, M/M, Most of my shit sucks but three AM me didn't have her head in the game, Probably sucks tbh I wrote it at like three AM, So oneshot then, Something to tide people over until I update shit, WHICH I CREDITED, based on a gif, pretty short, tHE WORD FUCK IS USED A LOT OMG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/gingerbread%20man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What will you be when you are dead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skeletons

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a month ago at three AM because I couldn't fucking sleep.
> 
> It's based on this: http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7w3je1MD71r9emklo1_500.gif

What will you be when you are dead?

_“John,” He pleads. You’re out of it. You are breathing but at the same time you aren’t, focused on the expanse of bright, flashing colors. They burn your eyes and etch themselves into your memory so that you will never forget them, the colors that signify the end. The end of it all. The end of you, the end of him. “John. Dude. Come on.”_

You will be nothing.

_Your teal suit is splattered in blood. Disgusting crimson blood, the color of Dave’s eyes but not calming like they’d always had been. The color evokes both negative and positive feelings and you aren’t sure which you lean toward now, but you hope it will end up being the positive ones that will sweep you away. “Dave.” You whisper calmly, not for any reason really. Maybe to ease his nerves, or something sappy like that._

A skeleton. You were not born a skeleton, but you are destined to be one.

_He breathes a sigh of relief. You’re glad for that. At least he doesn’t look tense anymore, his shoulders are slumped forward and he looks content, actually. You continue to stare at the colors, hoping maybe they’ll change but they don’t, they flash and burn your eyes and kill you slowly. “John, you’re fine. We’re fine. Okay?”_

_You look to him. You laugh. Your shoulders shake, so you think that’s what you’re doing. But you aren’t actually laughing, you’re sobbing, and then there are tears streaming down your face and you can’t fucking take it anymore. You want to die already. You want the game to end, you want Rose to be safe and Jade to be safe and for fuck’s sake, you want Dave to be safe._

Your flesh will melt and your skin will, too. Nothing will become nothing, as foretold.

_“John, can you stop fucking crying?” Dave is pleading again, you can hear the tinge of it in his ever-stoic voice and it makes you feel slightly bad. Only slightly. You look over to him and think that he may be crying too, tears glistening on his cheeks, his cheeks, where he has the nicest freckles that no one ever sees because he makes sure they’re out of sight, out of mind. You don’t stop crying because you can’t. You want to tell him that but the words are trapped in your throat, suffocating you. You wish the words would kill you, but that isn’t their job._

They call that dead. It is bliss, being a skeleton. Your safety is guaranteed.

_Your shoulders shake harder the harder you cry, the louder your sobs become, and the less and less you can firmly grip your sanity. “Egderp, can you stop, for like five seconds because--” He stops mid-sentence. Mid-thought. You don’t have time to wonder what he would have said, you don’t ask. “Can’t you just be calm?”_

_“How are you calm, Dave?” You ask. He laughs but it isn’t humor-laced, not like a normal laugh. It’s a broken, pained laugh. It is humorless. He isn’t laughing because something is funny -- he’s laughing because this situation is fucked. You’re fucked, he’s fucked. The world is doomed._

_“I’m not calm at all, you’re just a fucking baby,” He doesn’t mean it. He’s hiding behind humor, name calling, once again. That’s who he is. You’d never rob him of that privilege. “So can you just stop crying for five seconds so we can say our goodbyes?”_

You aren’t safe now. You aren’t safe yet.

_“No goodbyes. That means we’ll never see each other again, but we will. If we say goodbye, we’re letting everything go and that’s just stupid. So no, I will not stop crying so we can say our goodbyes because this isn’t fucking goodbye, Dave.” He’s never heard you swear before. His eyes widen behind his glasses. He doesn’t say anything more about the goodbyes, and he doesn’t tell you to stop crying again._

_He reaches down and grasps your hand. You entangle your fingers in his, waiting for the sweet release of death, waiting to_

be

a

pair

of

skeletons.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I was never going to post this. But I'm writing a beach oneshot right now, and that shit is already nineteen pages long, so I'm updating stories and while you all continue to wait for updates (and that oneshot now, probably) I decided to post this. Three AM me is much worse of a writer.
> 
> I'm also writing Vampire!John. You shoosh, I want to write John as a vampire right this instant and write it I shall!


End file.
